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— give in,

to temptation that keeps
following you tonight
obey the shadows cry

Driving the car with the sound of the incessant munching wasn't very amusing. Nor was the potential crumbs in the car. This wasn't Vash's own vehicle, of course, but he would prefer keeping the vehicle as clean as possible. With crisps of the somewhat greasy, colorful quality, it wasn't guaranteed that this vehicle was going to come up as clean as possible. But of course, who was Vash to blame? He was conned into doing this, but he needed the pay. And this wasn't his own car. No Agent would go around using his own car on missions. You can get your plates traced that way. Vash preferred to be a very careful man.

This mission had to be carried out carefully. The word "organ smuggling" posed the risk of losing your own organ. Vash preferred to keep his organs. After all, how in Gandalf's name was he going to explain losing an organ as an accident at the bank? You don't simply lose your organs while you're banking and balancing checkbooks. You have to have the worst luck to lose an organ in the line of banking. Vash wasn't known for his unluckiness. Plus... damn, the hospital bills and needing surgery. That sucks. His team was the pair of Irish twins. Aoife was a very capable woman and knew how to hold her place. She could easily fight an army of one thousand (not literally, those she could probably fight off at five without so much help), but her stubborn mannerisms weren't always going to help. She was simply too headstrong. But Vash could speak. Look at how compromising Vash could be. Donald could do the talking. He had many words to spare. But it just might not be a good idea to let him talk too much either. Though it would be somewhat amusing to see him lose an organ, that wasn't a good idea for covers.

But okay, working as a team was essential. Because going into an organ smuggling ring and trying to disassemble it singlehandedly is suicide. Your body parts will be scattered across the land.

"Shut up, it's not Chipper. It's Zwingli for you," Vash hissed. He wasn't the kind of guy that enjoyed nicknames. He wasn't a fun kind of guy anyways. But once they reach wherever they must go, toleration and common sense would kick in.

Sometimes, he didn't feel like he had a reason to wake up. Though it would be useful to wake up and prove to the world that he doesn't sleep with a rifle in his bed. Not that he did, unless you counted having the rifle locked up in the closet as sleeping with a rifle. Well then.

He did have a reason to wake up every day. And not because she insists he wake up. She actually would try to encourage him to go back to sleep, that the work hours were probably late and that he needed this rest. Not that that was always the truth. It was painful to lie about any injuries or bruises, to tell her that it was okay. For all he knew, he could end up in the hospital or shot in the line of work... and he would have to lie. And she would never know. He'll keep her away from his line of work... and of course, keep a will to survive. He would hate to leave her and let her eternal sunlight grow overcast.

He woke up to the smell of the tea she brewed and the tarts she baked.

'She didn't need to do that,' he thought. As usual. She always seemed to overdo herself and go out of her way to do such kind deeds.

He forced himself out of bed and put on a pair of slippers. He walked down the winding stairs into the kitchen. The granite counters and floor were spotless, shining like diamonds. She seems to have cleaned up after last night's mess with the chocolate fondue... which he was going to do when he got up. She really didn't need to do that. He was technically her guardian, though she has come of age, so he should be doing these things for her...

The sound of her humming that tune from that movie somewhat annoying and catchy movie The Sound of Music was a sound that he was welcomed by.

"Guten morgan, Schwester," Vash said, repressing a yawn. Those tarts smelled really good... Everything smelled really good in this house. The garden outside was well-tended, the smell of those pastries, the tea... It always seemed sunnier in this house when she was around. though Vash does regret that she's also the one cleaning it...